


In Need Of A New Headspace

by love_and_episkey



Category: Sanders Sides
Genre: Angst, Eventual Jemy, Fluff, I just realized the official shipname for Janus and Remy is, M/M, Out of the mindspace, Pining, Prinxiety - Freeform, Rejection, logicality - Freeform, normal people au, sleepceit - Freeform, sometimes I really don’t understand this fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27644993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/love_and_episkey/pseuds/love_and_episkey
Summary: Janus doesn’t need romance. He’s perfectly fine as he is. He’s got his friends, and he is most definitely not jealous of Logan. Nor is he interested in the cute new barista that works in the coffee shop down the street.
Relationships: Janus Sanders/Remy Sanders, Logan Sanders/Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders/Roman Sanders
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	1. A Spoonful of Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! First real angsty fic >:) Don’t forget to leave kudus and vote!

"Patton, have you seen my—"

  
Janus stops in his tracks.   
  


Patton's started baking again. Apparently.  
  


He's covered in flour and what looks like sugar from head to toe, and his once light blue apron is now completely white. His hair, however, has somehow managed to stay flour-free, and it glows almost blond in the afternoon sunshine that streams through the window. Janus feels his heart give an uncomfortable thump.  
  


Patton looks up at him and smiles. "Hey, Jan. What's up?”  
  


Janus schools his expression into something like disdain and hopes it's enough to hide the (quite frankly, pathetic) affection he's feeling at the moment. Nearly a year of being in love with Patton and it still manages to take him by surprise. "Don't call me Jan. My name is Janus, thank you very much. I was going to ask if you'd seen my physics textbook, but I'd be shocked if you could see anything at all right now considering your glasses are covered in... is that brown sugar?"  
  


How on earth did one manage to get _brown sugar_ on their _glasses_?  
  


"Oh, dear, I didn't even notice," Patton says, and Janus tries hard to suppress a sigh. There's a lot Patton doesn't notice these days; he's always lost in thought, and Janus is starting to fear he knows the reason why. "I can see perfectly fine, though. Weird."  
  


Patton giggles, and Janus smiles softly. He really is utterly fucked. 

  
"So, what's going on? You don't bake like this unless you're worried about something."  
  


Patton's smile falters a bit. "I... I don't want to burden you with all that."  
  


"You're not a burden," Janus replies, giving Patton his fiercest don’t-fuck-with-me face. "You're... a really great person, Patton, and I... I want you to tell me how you're feeling."  
  


Patton smiles again, and Janus knows he's thinking back to when they first met. _"I don't need someone to spill my life story to,"_ Janus had drawled. _"I just need someone to pay the other half of the rent."  
  
_

It's amazing how much they mean to each other, now.  
  


Yet Janus still aches for more.   
  


"Have I ever told you that you're my best friend?" Patton says, beginning to knead the dough that seems to have materialized out of thin air. Janus' heart gives a weak twinge of pain.  
  


"Of course you have; I'm amazed you find the willpower to _stop_ talking about it, seeing as I’m so brilliant. Now, really, what's the matter."  
  


"Well..." Patton replies, sighing. "There's this... guy."

  
Janus’ stomach has drops to his knees. "Oh?" he says, hoping it hasn't come out as strangled as he feels.  
  


"Yeah," Patton says quietly. "I just met him recently, but... I think I really like him, J. He's so clever and always knows what to say to make me feel better. He acts like he doesn't care, but I think secretly it's because he's got a big heart and doesn't want to get hurt. I can understand that; I’ve been there myself, actually.” Patton tips his chin down towards his chest, but Janus doesn't miss his small grin. "The way he looks at me, Jan... I think he might feel the same, but is too scared to say."

  
"Oh," Janus repeats. He knows he sounds like an idiot, but there's something numb and cold spreading through his chest and he can't really breathe. "Oh."  
  


"I just... haven't really felt this way about anyone before, you know? I don't understand how I'm supposed to act, or what I'm supposed to do, and whenever I'm around him my mouth gets all dry and my—my shoulders start sweating. Did you know that shoulders could sweat? Because I sure didn't." Patton laughs, but it sounds a little strained.   
  


Janus just nods. He knew that shoulders could sweat.  
  


"Is—Does this guys happen to be the one Virgil and Roman introduced us to a few months ago? The... the Logan fellow?"  
  


Patton stiffens a bit, but then slumps forward and gives Janus a smile that seems a little too self-deprecating. "Am I really that obvious?"  
  


"Just—Just to me, I think," Janus replies, swallowing hard. "I didn't know you'd kept in touch."  
  


"Oh, I thought I'd told you," Patton says, brow wrinkling as he starts searching for a rolling pin. "I was so caught up in the moment when he asked for my number; guess it just slipped my mind."  
  


Janus knows Patton is telling the truth, but, _God_ , it still hurts. The fact that Patton was so infatuated from the very beginning that he forgot to tell Janus in his excitement—that hurts like _hell_. This whole conversation hurts like hell.  


"Anyway, I'm making him a pie. Because. People like pie. And he... is a person. That I like. So. Pie. Yes," Patton finishes weakly, a light blush blooming across his cheeks.  
  


"Right," Janus says, and it comes out a little harsher than he intends. "Well. I hope that goes... good for you. And him. Good for both of you. Um, I just remembered, I think I left my physics book with Roman, so. I'll just. Run and get it.”  
  


"Oh, okay," Patton replies. His tone has shifted from anxious-and-embarrassed to Concerned Father Figure. Janus doesn't like it. Not a bit. "I'll see you later, though, yeah? I need a taste-tester."  
  


"Sure. Maybe. Virgil usually needs math help when I visit though. So. Maybe."

  
"Okay," and great, now he sounds hurt.

  
_Well done, Janus,_ he thinks furiously to himself. _Very convincing. It's not like he's been able to tell when you're lying since an hour after you met or anything._

  
He grabs his bag and opens the door, pretending he can’t feel Patton’s confused eyes on his back as he closes it shut behind him.   
  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
When Remus mentioned in passing that his brother was in need of a place to stay that a) would allow him to work on his screenplays in peace and b) not bleed him completely dry, Janus knew immediately what to do.   
  


It just so happened that the apartment below his and Patton’s had been recently vacated and was perfect for Roman’s price range... if he had a roommate to split the cost, like Janus did. Janus, being the God that he is, had a solution for that as well. His other friend, Virgil, was also in need of a place to stay that would a) allow him to work on his writing in peace and b) wouldn’t bleed him completely dry. _“Working nights at a gas station does not a rich poet make,”_ were his exact words. Janus thought they would get along swimmingly, what with the writing thing, and then he’d have two good friends living just a floor away. It was a win/win/win.  
  


Until it wasn’t.  
  


Roman and Virgil, although civil at first, quickly realized that they drove each other up the wall. It got so bad that they would end up shouting late into the night about the most trivial of things, like who tracked mud all over the kitchen and who was leaving coffee rings on the table. Once they’d even fought about the pattern on the curtains. _The goddamn curtain patterns,_ for God’s sake!  
  


The worst part, though, was that they both blamed Janus _completely_. He’d tried to talk to them about it, as he was obviously disturbed by the fact that he could no longer sleep due to their incessant screaming, and ended up being repeatedly accused of tricking them into living with each other and called a deceitful snake. 

  
(He then proceeded to make the mistake of trying to reason with them both at the same time; this resulted in the ‘deceitful snake’ bit and became the first thing they ever agreed on. Now he’s cursed with the most horrible nickname ever conceived: _Dee_ , short for Deceit. Honest to God, why could nobody call him by his fucking name?

  
“Roman _hates_ him. And you,” Remus told him gleefully during one of their visits. His manic smile was wider than Janus had ever seen it. “He hasn’t been this angry since I ran over the cat.”)

  
Eventually, on one _particularly_ late night during a _particularly_ vicious fight which Janus was trying _particularly_ hard to ignore as he had a _particularly_ bad headache, Roman shouted “just shut _up_ , Mr Wanna-Be Emo!” to which Virgil responded “why don’t you _fucking make me,_ you self-absorbed prep!” 

  
There was an awful lot of silence after that, and then there was clamor of a _different_ sort and... well. Let’s just say that Janus was at least able to sleep again. 

  
He can’t say he understands their peculiar little romance (seriously, how does one go from wanting to hit someone to wanting to kiss them?), but he doesn’t dare ask any questions; he’s got a bad feeling it’s something outrageously storybook, and he has no need for all that sappiness in his life. Not that it really matters what he thinks anyway—take one look at them together and you can tell that they’re ridiculously in love.   
  


The door’s unlocked when he gets to their apartment. After knocking and receiving Roman’s cheerful “Come in!” he enters to find both Roman and Virgil curled up on the couch. Virgil is perched on Roman’s lap and has his arms wrapped around his neck, head resting on one of Roman’s broad shoulders; Roman is leaning back against the armrest and is holding Virgil against him with his chin resting atop Virgil’s fluffy purple hair. They’re watching _Mary Poppins_ , and are so absorbed that they don’t even look at Janus when he walks further inside and shuts the door behind him.

  
So he just stands there, trying not to notice the way Roman keeps giving Virgil these sweet little adoring glances and how Virgil’s face is rid of all anxiety, leaving nothing but surety and contentment. 

  
He stands and stares for what feels like forever when he’s suddenly hit with an intense wave of longing. He has to look away, then, to blink tears out of his eyes. Tears. He’s going to cry actual, literal tears because he knows that they’ve got everything he wants but will never have. Not with Patton, anyway. The certainty of it hits him like a brick, that Patton will never feel this way about him, even if Logan were out of the picture.

  
When Virgil finally gets the inclination to fucking _look_ at him, Janus is a crumbling mess. Virgil’s face is suddenly filled with apprehension, and Janus knows he must look positively horrid if Virgil’s shocked enough to reveal so much emotion. He nudges Roman—now there are two pairs of worried eyes staring straight at him, and he can’t help it; he starts to sniffle a bit.  
  


“Jesus, Dee,” Virgil says, climbing off Roman’s lap and enveloping Janus in a bone-crushing hug. He is so shocked he almost stops ~~crying~~ sniffling. Virgil’s never hugged him before, and he’s never been hugged much at all, really, and Virgil’s actually a really nice hugger and oh, no, the sniffling’s back.   
  


Roman places a gentle hand on his shoulder, then asks, “Do you want to sit down?” and before Janus can blink he’s being led over to the couch with his head buried in Virgil’s shoulder, Roman bustling off to the kitchen.  
  


Virgil’s hoodie is really quite soft. It smells of lavender. Janus wrinkles his nose. When Roman comes back and hands him a glass of water, also smelling of lavender, things make a little more sense. _Must be their detergent,_ he thinks, and then he stops thinking about how they share detergent because otherwise he’s going to think about how much he wants someone to share detergent with _him_ and _goddammit_ he wants that someone to be Patton, but it’s not going to be Patton, because Patton doesn’t like him like that. He likes Logan. Perfect Logan with his cleverness and his soft hidden heart and the fact that he always knows what to say. Perfect Logan who Patton has, supposedly, been texting for _months_.

  
He pulls out of Virgil’s embrace and takes a sip of water, glaring bitterly into the cup as he does. Roman sits on his other side, sending a blast of lavender-scented air his way, and his eyes prick with tears once again.   
  


He doesn’t even like lavender.  
  


“Do you want to talk about it?” Roman asks softly. Janus didn’t know Roman’s voice could be so quiet.  
  


There’s a beam of sunlight shining through a window in their kitchen, directly opposite the one in Patton and Janus’ apartment. It reminds him of how beautiful Patton’s hair was today, and how much he’d wanted to kiss him, because Patton’s heart is pure and loving and kind, and he’s started baking again and he only bakes when he’s anxious about something, and Janus wants to be the one to rid him of those anxieties. He can’t, though, because Patton is anxious over Logan, and is baking a pie for Logan, and has sweaty shoulders around Logan. Because Logan is who he likes, not Janus. It will never be Janus. Janus just isn’t... _likable_.  
  
  
“Janus? Hey, really. Tell us what’s wrong. We won’t be able to do anything if we can’t figure out what’s bothering you,” Roman says.

  
Virgil rolls his eyes. “Don’t push him, Roman. Whether or not he tells us anything is his decision. We just have to be here for him.”

  
“I’m not pushing! Or, I’m not trying to, at least.” He looks at Janus helplessly. “I’m not pushing, am I?” 

  
Janus chuckles. “No, Roman, you’re not pushing. I’ve just... got something on my mind, and I’m not sure whether or not I wish to discuss it. I think I just need—people, right now.”  
  


“Okay,” Virgil says, putting an arm around him. Roman does the same, and as Janus leans back against their joined hands, he knows his previous statement wasn’t completely true. Roman and Virgil like him, maybe even love him, and have accepted his pain without a thought. They’re not mad that he’s intruded on their time together—they’re just happy to be able to help. But he doesn’t think he’s likable in the _other_ way; not in the way he wants Patton to like him.

  
_“A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down!”_ Mary trills. Roman hums along with her, and when Virgil leans his head on Janus’ shoulder, he knows everything will be okay anyway.   
  


_Who needs romance when you’ve got friends?_


	2. A Trip to Brixton’s Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so can we talk about the fact that Janus and Remy’s official fanon shipname is SLEEPCEIT like WHO DID THAT 
> 
> This fandom is so chaotic. I love it.

Patton's not in the kitchen when he gets home. There's a note on the fridge in Patton's bubbly scrawl.

_"I'm making an apple pie and I forgot to buy apples. Who does that? I can be such a scatterbrain. Might be back late—I decided to pick up the rest of the groceries for the week. See you soon! Love, Patton."_

Janus sighs and checks the back, finding writing there as well. It reads: _"P.S. you seemed a little upset when you left. Remember you can tell me anything. I won't judge."_

Janus sits at the table and puts his head in his hands. He stays like that for a long time.

*~*~*

The next morning proves to be no better than the last, and Janus wakes feeling utterly drained. He's only got an hour before his morning classes. Biggest mistake of his life, thinking he'd be ready to process information at nine in the fucking morning.

It looks like a nice day, at least. The closer to December it gets, the more hope Janus has that it will snow, even though it never does. When did he get to be so hopeful about things?

He decides to blame it on Patton. 

Although he usually tries his hardest to dress nicely, today his head pounds a painful rhythm against his skull and his hands fumble over the buttons on his shirt. He grits his teeth and attempts to get on with it without moving his head, turning to stare out the window into the parking lot below. It's a lost cause, however, as the zipper on his favorite jacket has apparently picked today to be difficult, and it goes without saying that Janus is in quite a mood when all is said and done.

A wonderful smell is emanating from the kitchen and he knows avoiding Patton is not an option. _It wouldn't be fair to do so anyway,_ he reminds himself, because it's not his fault Janus and his stupid feelings are getting in the way of their friendship.

It’s not like he doesn’t know how to deal with them by now. Still, he steels himself as he opens his bedroom door; seeing Patton after hurting his feelings always makes Janus feel—

Patton is in their kitchen. With _Logan._

Logan is in _their_ kitchen. With _Patton_. 

And they're standing _way too close to each other._

Just as he thinks this, they jump apart, as if he'd caught them doing something they shouldn't. Janus closes his eyes.

"I hope I'm not... _interrupting_... anything?" he asks, clenching his teeth before opening his eyes once more.

"Oh, Janus, you're up early! I didn't expect you for nearly an hour." Patton's cheeks are flushed with embarrassment, but his eyes are bright and a smile dominates most of his face. Janus wants to walk back into his room and scream into a pillow.

"It's Friday," he says instead. "You know I've got classes in the morning."

Patton's smile dims. Janus instantly feels like a dick.

"It's fine, I'm sure," Logan says, and the moment he speaks Janus is filled with the overwhelming urge to ~~push him down a flight of stairs~~ ask him—politely—to get the fuck out of his apartment. "We can reschedule."

Patton's smile drops off his face completely. Janus sees the momentary panic that it stirs in Logan, and he hates him for it. He hates him so, _so_ much, because he knows that expression, has worn it on his face a thousand times. He _hates_ him, because Patton was right—Logan does like him back. Logan is going to get everything Janus has ever wanted, and Janus is going to let him take it, because Logan is the one who makes Patton happy.

Janus wants to be petty. He wants to make a snarky jab at the detached, haughty tone Logan uses when he talks, or the fact that he's wearing a tie at eight-thirty in the morning. But he doesn't.

Suddenly, he can't stand to be anywhere near this room, nevermind inside it.

"I think I'll just go," he says. "I wanted to visit Brixton's Alley before my class started, anyway."

"Oh," Patton says. Logan looks at Patton, then at him, then back at Patton.

"I understand you two are... friends?" Logan asks.

"Yes, we've met before. I'm Janus," he replies, grabbing his bag from off the table while suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. Logan has a very pleasant voice, and it's really starting to get irritating that he's better than Janus in every way.

Logan frowns. "Er, yes. I'm sorry, when was this?"

"Same time you met Patton. Roman and Virgil's 'fancy' dinner party," he says. Avoiding the eyes of either of them, Janus grabs his keys from the little bowl on the counter. "Although I imagine you were a bit... distracted."

He opens the door and turns to look at them. Logan seems embarrassed and a little guilty, but Patton has a suspiciously calculating expression on his face that Janus doesn't like in the least.

"Patton, Logan," he says. It comes out quieter than he expects. Feeling strangely vulnerable, he clears his throat and straightens his shoulders, tipping his head at them. "I'll see you."

"Yeah," Patton replies, voice hesitant, before Janus closes the door in his face for the second time in as many days.

*~*~*

Brixton's Alley is, in Janus' ever-humble opinion, the best cafe in the state, maybe even the world. He's not usually a huge fan of coffee, but he knows that after a morning like this one, a strong dose of caffeine is, quite possibly, the only thing that'll be able to get him through the day.

It's eight forty-five by the time he reaches his destination, meaning he will most likely be late for class, but he really couldn't care less. The cafe is warm and comfortable and calm—everything a lecture hall is not—and it's exactly what he needs. Plus, the scent of coffee beans is almost enough to banish the last traces of his headache, and for that he is endlessly grateful. He awards Brixton's a few more mental points.

As he settles into his booth and takes out his copy of _Dark Psychology_ , the door behind him opens with a _whoooooosh_ -BANG!

Janus is so startled he almost spills his latte and, feeling particularly vindictive, whips around to give whoever has caused the calamity a piece of his mind. He doesn't get the chance, however, because they've gone as soon as they’ve come, practically flying across the tile and through another door towards the back.

 _So much for calm and quiet,_ he thinks, stunned. Shaking his head a bit, he tries to focus once more on his reading. It's nearly nine o'clock when—

 _Whoooooosh_ -BANG!

"What in the world?" Janus yelps, jumping again. He turns, spotting a slight grimace on the face of the cashier who served him just before an unholy screech fills the air.

"EMIIIIIIIIIIIIIILE!"

Janus winces and wonders for the tenth (eleventh?) time why he simply cannot catch a fucking break.

"Emile, you little _bitch_ , where have you hidden my coffee?"

The cashier sighs, and with a rather resigned expression, replies: "we sold out, Remy. You know that's our most popular blend."

There's a beat of tense silence and then the unholy screeching is back, this time more of a wail, before a stream of expletives fall rapidly from the person's mouth. They’re now laying on the counter as if they haven’t the energy to go on, and the little old lady in the corner lets loose a scandalized gasp. The person—who Janus can now see is a boy—sticks his tongue out at her. Janus is unable to stifle a laugh in time, and the boy glances at him a moment before turning his head back towards the cashier.

"You _absolute_ fucker," he concludes. Emile the Cashier just pats his head solemnly, avoiding what looks to be a pair of very pointy Ray-Bans as he does. Janus sips his coffee, interested despite himself.

"It's for the best, really. That caffeine addiction can't be good for you."

"It's the only thing that is good for me," the boy (Remy?) whines. "That and a good, hard fuck."

Janus spits out his coffee.

"Remy! We have customers," Emile says reproachfully.

Remy doesn't seem to care. As Emile tries to console the little old lady (who is sputtering and going purple with indignation), Remy catches Janus staring and squints a bit. Janus doesn't look away. Instead, he sips his coffee and takes a moment to run his eyes down the boy's face, cataloguing the pouty lips and high, refined cheekbones. He meets Remy's eyes after a minute and flicks an eyebrow at him before returning to his book.

 _Rather nice-looking,_ he thinks. _Too bad about the personality._

"Fuck the customers," Remy says, but it's more of a mumble. It's the quietest he's been since he got here, and Janus smirks a little, triumphant. He's been known to have that effect on people.

Eventually, he shuts his book and shoves it back in his bag, finishing off his coffee as he does. It's nine-thirty, he's missed most of class, and he hasn't felt this refreshed since the time Patton had gotten so excited that he'd picked Janus up and spun him around the room. He takes one more glance at the new barista and, finding him staring back unabashedly, tries not to saunter on his way out.

*~*~*~*

The confidence Janus gains at being so openly checked out doesn't stay with him long. His thoughts quickly circle back to Patton, and because thinking about Patton means thinking about Logan (and Patton with Logan, and Patton and Logan together), he quickly shoves that train of thought into the back of his head to die. He's got his work and he's got his friends; there's no need for anything else. _Relationships get complicated,_ he reminds himself. 

Not that he'd want a relationship with someone as loud and over-dramatic as Remy. 

Logan has surely left by the time Janus' first class is over, but he still has no desire to return home, where everything is tainted with memories of how things used to be. There was a time when Janus thought Patton might feel the same way about him—in the beginning, when they'd first started living together. Their interactions had always had this underlying tension, the feeling of 'something big is going to happen between us, and it's going to happen soon.' Janus thought that Patton could feel it, too, but turns out it was entirely one-sided.

Janus had confessed late one evening after a party where he'd gotten entirely too drunk. Patton, being the innocent, pure, I'm-waiting-for-21 person he was (and still is, let’s be honest), had been completely sober when it happened. Janus can still feel the burn of utter humiliation as Patton had sat on the bed the next morning, rubbing his neck and saying "Sorry, I just don't... feel that way about you."

Taking a turn into Big Oak Park, Janus runs his hands over his face and through his hair. A walk will do him some good, surely. It should get his mind off all the unpleasant things that have happened, at the very least.

He walks the path for a while and ends up at a quaint little pond. There are geese and ducks and swans and things who haven't left south for winter yet floating around leisurely, being fed bread by small clusters of people. The whole scene gives him a quiet sense of peace; no matter what's going on in his head, there will always be ponds for swans to swim in, and kind-hearted people around to feed them.

Janus picks a nice little bench under a tree and tries to ignore the fact that it's sixty-two degrees. Tucking his knees under his chin and closing his eyes, he listens to the sounds of children laughing and water sloshing around the pond. Feeling himself relax, the worries of the day slip off to a part of his mind that is no longer active, and he lets them go. Maybe when he gets back, he’ll talk to Patton about—

"I think you should move out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t forget to leave kudos if you enjoyed and comment your feedback!


End file.
